notlateone
There is a small cabin on the side of the city, between where the forest and brush started and the river that snakes around the entire metropolis. It is run down, falling down, and everything in between. Don't dream of running water. I already checked, there isn't any. Too bad, that. I'm so thirsty that my throat seems to be waging war every time I swallow. Not that I want to leave. I want to stay here, because outside, there are people with questions far too painful to answer.
Deaf. It is as though I am deaf. They are speaking and I am not hearing. But I am crying, because he is smiling and laughing and trying to make it seem like this is okay. I want to hear him, hear what he is saying, but I can't. I am so in love with him that it is not even funny. I love him so much and I'm so sorry for the trouble I've gotten him in. I don't ever want to see his smile go away, to see his soundless laugh fade. But I'm fading, I'm waking up, I'm heartbroken.
The sky darkened at dusk, and I stared out across the bay in silence. The cold air bit my bare fingertips that were sticking out of my ratty gloves, but I didn't care. It seemed that pain was the price of being alone, of having the freedom to think for myself. The colors in the horizon made me want to sob. Dark and fading, like me. Yes, this was the price of being alone.
Sneaky. Joking. Tip toeing past the stairs, down the hall, turn on the light--hide in the closet, quickly, quietly, sneaking. Like a spy. A ninja. Bump in the night, you know. Sssh.
The sinking feeling grew stronger with every passing second. There was nowhere left to hide, no walls to climb, just the cold and hard fate.
Fate that would come. Close your eyes, count to ten, and it will be over.
But the only fear is fear itself--and when you open your eyes, it will be better. Throw yourself off the cliff. Sink into the water. Maybe the ocean floor is colorful, after all.
I wish I could be honest with myself, because if that were the case, I'd be more prone to being honest with those around me. I mean, I don't lie. But I don't share the whole truth, and that's what kills me.
Even worse...I don't think I want to share everything. The little secrets cut me in pieces, and it makes me stronger.
I went to wade on the beach.
The water was fresh, cool, and it stretched out towards the gray horizon. It reminded me of everything that I could never had, an anomaly, something so perfect that it seemed impossible for me to even touch it. And despite the footprints that I left in the sand, the beach didn't love me back.
I used to have a crush on you, yes. It was in 1999. Everything was changing. We all feared the end of the world, yet the two of us didn't care. I guess that's what attracted me to you. We were careless, reckless, and everything in between.
So loving you came with the territory. I think we would have worked, had the world really ended on New Years Eve, but you were gone with alongside the fears of civilization crashing.
Lust, this nail-scratching lust. Drag your feet across the table. I'm lusting after my dreams. The high life. Old Hollywood. Gold dresses, red lipstick, scandal. It's on Wall Street now, that high life. Stand in the Stock Exchange. Thousands of dreams floating in the air, whispering, all back to money and sex. Red lipstick. Drag your nails across the table. Feet down to the floor.
A chorus of applause, I stood in the back, I sang my heart out.
When it was over, everyone congratulated me on my solo. I hadn't had one, though. I was just louder than everybody else. I let my lungs take ahold of me, melted into the notes, let my voice electrify the whole stage.
That was when I was happiest, I think. My first high. I'll always try to recreate it.
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writing since 2011 · 28 entries · 27 days shown up
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